


The Bonds That Bind Us

by cloakoflevitation



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Familiars, Gen, Loki (Marvel)-centric, Post-Avengers (2012), Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 11:44:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18093662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloakoflevitation/pseuds/cloakoflevitation
Summary: FAIR WARNING: This is unfinished and I don't have plans right now to complete it. It's basically the beginnings, the set up, of a familiar fic.I lost all my will/thoughts on writing this but I didn't want to just delete it all so I'm putting it here. Maybe one day the ideas I had about this will come back to me and I'll finish it, but I'm not holding my breath.





	The Bonds That Bind Us

Loki gently ran a hand down the back of the dragon, not sure if he was easing his nerves or theirs. It had been many years since he had had a familiar, and the experience had not ended well. Despite that, the benefits a familiar could afford appealed to him greatly: a vessel to hold magic, a comforting friend, aid should he find himself in trouble. He had thought it over for weeks, turning the idea over in his mind until he was sure, and he had eventually journeyed to Muspelheim and found a young dragon, a creature with a lifespan to match his own.

Pushing aside his lingering fears, he pulled the book he would need from a pocket dimension. He called the little dragon to him, coaxing them to lie in front of him, just to his left. He laid the book out next to them. “I hope you’re ready,” he murmured, more to himself than to them. He placed a hand on their head, enchanting them to sleep.

Giving the dragon one last look, Loki took a deep breath to center himself. Then he began the spellwork. It reminded him of the hours he spent with Frigga as a child, learning magic. She had woven tapestries, among other things, and had taught him how to weave strands of magic together, much like she did thread. Slowly but surely, his spell grew, as he wove threads of magic, creating a spell that would tether his soul to his familiar’s. It was a tedious process, requiring both a great deal of skill and concentration (which was part of the reason he had considered not taking a familiar).

He was careful to keep the spellwork above the sleeping dragon. Magic was easily manipulated, easily changed, and spells were no exception. Letting something become caught in the strands of the unfinished spell could have disastrous consequences. A memory of a half-baked spell and a fire demon bubbled up from Loki’s subconscious, but he resolutely ignored it. That particular adventure had nearly cost he and another Alfheim mage their lives.

The dragon shifted in their sleep, making Loki freeze. Taking a deep breath, he set a hand on their head, pushing another wave of magic into them. The last thing he needed at the moment was an awake and curious young dragon.

He returned his focus to the spellwork. Delicate, green webs of magic glittered above the floor, all around him. With a few more adjustments, he finally finished the structure of the bond at last. All that remained was to attach it to his dragon and secure it.

“Alright, little one,” Loki murmured, more to himself than to the sleeping dragon, “Where is the section on familiars?” He flipped through the pages, vaguely recalling that the part about familiars was somewhere near the part about teleportation. At last he found the instructions. Most spells, most magic in general, could be achieved simply with enough will power, focus, and (most especially) practice. But there were a few very strong, very old spells that required actual incantations or rituals. The familiar bonding spell required a sealing symbol, drawn in magic.

Loki studied the image for a moment before beginning to draw the symbol in the air. It took a great deal of concentration to coax the magic into the right shape, which is why he didn’t realize he had guests until it was too late.

“What the hell? _Loki?”_

He nearly gave himself whiplash, turning so quickly to find Thor and Stark standing in the doorway. Thor was looking at him expectantly, eyebrows raised, but Loki was far more concerned about Stark. The man was eyeing the threads Loki had so painstakingly woven with curiosity, and _Norns,_ he was stepping into the room.

“Stop!” Loki immediately protested, panic making him jump to his feet. “Don’t –”

But it was too late. Stark must have stepped too close to the magic, because all at once, it began to bunch at his legs, as if drawn by an invisible force. As Stark’s expression quickly dipped towards shock, the strands all came flying towards him at once from all across the room. The delicate threads wound themselves around him, glowed brightly, and then vanished.

Stark’s wide eyes met Loki’s. “What just happened?”

Loki’s answer was low and grim. “Nothing good.” Panic bubbled up in his chest, but he resolutely ignored it, forcing himself to remain calm and composed. “I was attempting to create a familiar before you destroyed all my work.”

“I didn’t –”

“You did,” Loki cut him off succinctly, his eyes narrowing as he walked closer to him. Stark took a hesitant step back, but Loki twisted his hand in the air, holding the mortal in place.

“Loki…” Thor warned him in a low voice.

Thor was giving him a reproachful look, and when he caught sight of the fear in Stark’s eyes, he explained to the man, “I need to see what the spell has done.” He waved a hand haphazardly, releasing his hold on Stark and re-illuminating the threads of magic now encircling him.

Stark raised his arms slightly, his mouth forming an ‘o’ as his looked down at the magic wound around him. He looked fearfully between the magic, Loki, and Thor. “What – ?”

Loki silently agreed with the sentiment behind Stark’s broken question. _What exactly had happened?_  He hadn’t finished the symbol to create the bond, but the spell was looking frightening more and more like a _completed_ familiar bond regardless.

“Is it safe?” Thor asked uncertainly.

Loki drew his attention from the magic and blinked owlishly at Thor, before looking back at Stark to find him still holding his arms out, as if he were afraid to touch the magic any more than he already was. “Hmm? Oh, yes, you can touch them.” He slowly began to walk around Stark, examining what had happened to the spell, what it had become. “You don’t possess any magic, so you can’t harm them.”

“I’m more worried about them hurting me.” Stark’s voice was tight, his body tense.

All at once, Loki’s spellbook went flying across the room, the pages fluttering and creasing at awkward angles as the book slammed into the wall and then fell to the floor. The glass in the windows on two of the walls shattered outwards. The chair and desk on the far side of the room slid into the wall with a loud thunk. Some of the papers on the desk flew into the air towards the wall, scattering like confetti. A round footstool that had been pushed aside promptly burst into flames.

The dragon, now very much awake and alert, let out a noise between a hiss and a shriek and darted out the doorway behind Thor. Stark was standing frozen, watching Loki with horror and the reflection of the fire in his eyes.

Thor’s expression was grim as he walked across the room, patting the fire out with his cape. “What is it?”

Loki continued to stare straight ahead as the blood drained from his face. He clenched his jaw, not making a sound. It couldn’t be real. He had to be dreaming. Of all the things to happen to him, of all the things the Norns would curse him with, he couldn’t –

 _“Loki,”_ Thor snapped, coming to stand directly in front of him.

Now that he had been pulled from his state of shock, he saw the fear he felt mirrored on Thor’s face. “I was attempting to make a familiar,” he croaked, forcing the words out. Thor’s eyes widened in realization. “It appears I have succeeded.”

“A familiar? What the hell?” Both brothers turned towards Stark. Loki winced at the man’s expression. He was confused, but the anger and fear underneath were what made him grimace.

Thor glanced at Loki. “Stark…”

“Why did you bring him here?” Loki ground out through clenched teeth, turning to face Thor, unable to look at the mortal anymore. “You were supposed to be away –”

“I hadn’t packed yet, Loki.” Thor tilted his chin upward, defiant. “I met Bruce earlier this morning and when I was going to return, Tony asked to accompany me. You were supposed to be gone, so I didn’t see the harm.”

“Didn’t see the harm?” The footstool burst into flames once more. _“Didn’t see the harm?”_ He summoned a dagger and pointed it accusingly at Thor. “I should hope you can see it now! Do you realize what you’ve done?”

Thor bristled, but Stark stepped up to Thor’s side. “Well just undo it then,” he snapped. “Wrong place, wrong time on all accounts here. Just reverse all this,” he said, gesturing up and down his body, where the strands of magic still glowed around him. “And no harm, no foul.”

Loki shook his head. He sent the dagger back to a pocket dimension and made the magic around Stark fade until it was no longer visible. “Don’t you think I would unbind myself from you if I could?”

Thor crossed his arms. “Loki…” His tone far too knowing and bordering on reproachful. And perhaps Thor was right, but just because Loki _could_ unbind them didn’t mean he _wanted_ to.

“I can’t,” he hissed back. “You remember what happened! I can’t!” With one last brief glance at Stark, taking in the horror and feeling his dismay, Loki teleported to the basement of the house. He sank down on a sofa there, only to remember the burning footstool upstairs. He sat up for a moment, then froze. Thor would take care of it. There was no way he could face his brother, let alone Stark at the moment. He laid back against the cushions, looking up at the ceiling.

He had only wanted a familiar. A _dragon_ familiar.

Even now, he could still feel the traces of panic, of fear through the newly forged bond. There were so many things he needed to tell Stark, so many things he needed to explain, but he found he didn’t have the strength.

He threw an arm across his face, squeezing his eyes shut, as if that could somehow block out the reality of the situation. He was bound to a mortal, and one that considered him an enemy, no less. He felt laughter, panicked and hysterical, flood his chest. He was laughing and suddenly he was crying, and _Norns, what was deserving of this cruel fate?_

He looked down, calling on the magic that bound him and Stark together. Two thin strands glowed brightly against his skin, encircling his wrists. The strands hung down towards the floor, the ends dimmer and nearly translucent until he couldn’t see them anymore. But he knew if he were standing close enough to Stark, he would see the way they led to him, winding nearly endlessly around him.

They were bound now. Familiar and mage.

He stood from the sofa to pace the room. There were many things that needed to be done if this bond was to be what he had originally wanted. The bond would have to be explained, most likely the whole concept of a familiar as well. He would need to befriend Stark, get him to accept him. Loki would also need to take precautions and keep him safe, keep him close. And Stark would need to eat an apple.

Loki froze in his calculations. From everything he knew about the mortal, from everything Thor had told him… Stark was not likely to accept immortality.

He slowly sank down to his knees, alone in the basement. He cast a spell to soundproof the room before screaming brokenly. He cursed the Norns, he cursed Odin, and above all he cursed his own foolishness. He should have known better than to reach for happiness.

*

Time became meaningless. It couldn’t have been long that he had hidden himself away, down in the basement, but it felt like it could have been an eternity.

He would be pulled abruptly from his despair to find himself pacing the floor or sitting against a wall, only to repeat the experience sometime after. He was stuck in a cycle of falling into the depths of his own mind, of his own nightmarish imaginations of what would happen now that Stark was his familiar. There would be moments of clarity, where he could realize he was becoming trapped in his own mind, but soon after, he would be pulled back into his ruminations.

Eventually, he became aware of Thor’s presence in the basement. He was leaning against one of the walls, watching Loki warily.

“Thor?” He blinked quickly, the weight of the situation he was in hitting him square in the chest yet again.

The edge of Thor’s mouth twitched as though he wanted to smile, which only made Loki angry. There was nothing to smile about. “I called your name many times.”

Loki made no response beyond crossing his arms.

Thor sighed, looking away. “You won’t sever your bond with him?” His resigned tone told Loki that Thor already knew the answer.

“I won’t.”

Thor only frowned. “Then you owe him many explanations.”

“Explanations?” Loki’s tone turned dangerously dark. “And do you not think _you_ owe me an explanation? _An apology?_ ”

“You know I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Thor chided, making Loki irrationally, disproportionately upset.

He summoned throwing stars and began to hurl them at Thor. “But it still happened!” He punctuated each word by throwing another star. “I am bound to the mortal!”

Thor held up his arms in front of him, deflecting most of the projectiles with his bracers. “And I _am_ sorry about the situation!”

The apology only made his stomach turn. Despite his words, he didn’t want an apology or an explanation. He wanted a fight. He wanted sharp weapons and sharper words, because bruised skin and a bruised heart would help him shut out the panic he was drowning in. It would help him shut out reality.

Thor slowly made his way towards him, eventually getting close enough that he could no longer throw stars into the space between them.

Loki looked away, grinding his teeth. “I wanted the dragon. I wanted a familiar.” Thor pulled the remaining stars free from out of his hand without a fight and dropped them to the ground. They landed in a clatter that made Loki flinch. Thor’s hands came to rest on his shoulders. He could feel Thor’s stare but firmly refused to meet it. He whispered, “I wanted this _one_ thing.”

“I know.”

Loki sighed and barely moved his fingers in a dismissive gesture. All the throwing stars littering the floor and imbedded in the walls disappeared.

“I’m sorry, Loki.”

He pressed his lips together and swallowed hard. “I know.” He shrugged off Thor’s grip. It was time to return upstairs; he could no longer hide from this particular disaster. He sucked in a breath and held it for a long time. When his foot hit the first step of the stairs, he turned back to Thor. “Have you forgotten how to walk? Hurry up.” His voice wasn’t as strong or as emotionless as he would have liked, but Thor followed after him without comment. Having Thor’s footsteps echo behind him up the stairs was strangely comforting.

But, of course, all his calm and courage left him as he crossed the doorway to the room he had left Stark in. The mortal was standing over his desk, appearing to read the papers strewn across the surface. However, Loki was almost certain all the papers he had lying out were in Vanir script, old Norse, or Alfheim runes, so he doubted Stark could actually understand any of it.

“Stark.”

Stark barely spared Loki a glance before looking at Thor with relief. He came to stand at Thor’s side, almost close enough that their arms touched. “Shit Thor, you were gone for a while. I thought something happened to you.” Loki heard what Stark didn’t say though. _Don’t leave me._ He could feel the fear radiating off him, even without the bond.

There was a tense silence. Thor cleared his throat. “My brother would like to speak with you.”

Stark crossed his arms. “Are you gonna fix this? Because I don’t really care what you have to say unless it’s a spell to fix whatever you’ve done.”

“What _I_ did? It was _you_ that–” Loki made himself take a breath. “There is no ‘fixing’,” his mouth curled unpleasantly at the word, “this, there is only accepting and adjusting. You are my familiar now and will be until one of us dies.”

Stark’s breathing started to become heavier. One of his hands flew up to clasp Thor’s wrist. “Take me back.”

Thor looked helplessly at Loki, who sighed. “Do it,” he assented quietly.

Thor turned to grab Stark’s shoulders, and then they both disappeared.

Loki teleported to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of liquor from Nidavellir from the top shelf of a cabinet, and then teleported to the roof, intent on drinking until he forgot the whole day.

**Author's Note:**

> I sort of envisioned Loki not wanting to get close to Tony (for a multitude of reasons but I hadn't really narrowed in on what I wanted his motivations to be yet) but he does really want a familiar and now he has Tony so he dotes on him and gives him gifts and does nice things for him all the while pretending that he doesn't care and acts all cold and aloof.
> 
> Meanwhile Tony is more or less lost and tries to make the best of the situation he's now stuck in but Loki is being a major jerk. Eventually they have a falling out and Loki reveals how important/special the familiar/mage bond is in general and especially how important is it /to him/. Tony's all "oh I didn't know, why are you acting like this then, just talk to me like a normal person because you're actually kinda nice under all your cold uncaring facade" and they start a tentative friendship and we get all the fluff. 
> 
> It wasn't necessarily going to be Loki/Tony but you could definitely have read it that way. But yeah, sorry I don't have more story for you! Thanks for reading this anyway!
> 
> (And if you have ideas about this, please comment them! I would love to find the inspiration to finish this because I love the concept but right now... it's not happening. Also if you want to continue this story, feel free!!)


End file.
